


Sir Witcher

by im_fairly_witty



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: M/M, Pride and prejudice style, aka geralt takes a lot of contracts in london and jaskier has ten thousand a year, genre typical hurt feelings, genre typical party banter, genre typical they dont like each other yet but give it a week and they'll be engaged, not and actual P&P crossover just a genre bend, regency au, to make it regency gothic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:06:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24722776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/im_fairly_witty/pseuds/im_fairly_witty
Summary: Geralt is called from London to take a contract for whatever is haunting the moors around the Lettenhove estate. The young lord's over eager attempts to befriend him are making Geralt uneasy, what purpose could a handsome young man with a university education and ten thousand a year have for befriending a Witcher?A shamelessly self indulgent regency-gothic au written on a lazy Sunday afternoon.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 14
Kudos: 162





	Sir Witcher

“Oh come now Geralt, I know a ball likely isn’t your first choice for amusement but you’re frightening away all the eligible young ladies with that intolerable scowl of yours, which I cannot abide.” said the young Lord Julian Lettenhove, appearing once again at his elbow with a grin and another glass of wine.

Geralt resisted the urge to growl at both the young man’s brash over familiarity at using his first name after knowing him only a day, and at the uncomfortable feel of the expensive suit he had been all but coerced into wearing in the stead of his usual armored leather overcoat.

He’d arrived at the Lettenhove estate only that morning and had spent most of the day unsuccessfully trying to rid himself of the young lord’s over-eager company in a way that could be considered tactful. Now evening had fallen and Geralt had achieved nothing other than gathering the most basic information related to his contract and losing his patience entirely with the young man at his side.

“When your father contracted my services and invited me from London to your estate it was with the express intent of finding whatever is terrorizing your moors.” Geralt said, ignoring the proffered drink at his elbow. “There was nothing in the stated terms about being subjected to the terrors of local entertainment in a borrowed suit, or rest assured I would have demanded greater payment.”

The only reason he had agreed to come at all was for the chance of eavesdropping for greater information on whatever entity had been causing the gruesome local deaths as of late, but with the young brightly dressed lord hovering at his elbow he had drawn far too much attention to accomplish anything of the sort.

“Anyone would think you the dullest of guests if they judged you by your scowl alone, and yet they have only to venture within range of your searing wit to be proven wrong.” Lord Lettenhove grinned, the young man all but radiating the warmth of an overbearing summer afternoon. “I have no reservations in admitting you the most frightfully interesting thing to happen to this estate in years, and I have no intention of being driven off by your superficial attempts at gruffness. You can give that effort up straight away, we are to become the best of friends, I see no other result possible so as your friend I advise you to surrender now.”

Geralt judged the young man as either something of an idiot or else simply bored with the amusements usual to his station. There was no other reason for a handsome young man with a university education and ten thousand a year to have taken such an unqualified interest in a Witcher, a pariah of a man whose very association could put a shadow upon another’s reputation.

It would hardly be the first time that Geralt found himself victim to the morbid curiosity of the wealthy, and he had learned it wise to discourage it as soon as possible. There were rarely true friends to be made among the social upper class, no matter what newly graduated young lords might suppose during short lived fits of boredom.

“If his lordship is suffering from lack of entertainment I would advise he look for companionship among the eligible young ladies previously mentioned.” Geralt said flatly, looking across the lively ballroom, his sharp eyes catching on various points of interest he itched to be investigating instead of wasting his time with pointless doomed attempts at socializing.

Geralt looked to the young lord at his side. Putting an end to this would be off putting, but his contract was already secure and his own reputation was not easily set lower than it already was.

“The best result that could arise from our association is for your family’s noble reputation to be damaged,” Geralt said bluntly. “And the worst is for my time to have been wasted when you come to the inevitable and correct realization that a Witcher is a poor source of cheap amusement. I am here at your father’s behest, not to amuse you. I suggest you find someone else to tease who is more interested in your idle engagements.”

Having experienced this before Geralt knew the young lord would either laugh or sneer at him before leaving him be with some final scathing remark, but instead the young man’s smile dissolved into something that looked uncomfortably like hurt.

“I...Geralt, no, that’s not what I meant at all.” Lord Lettenhove said, his voice abruptly losing all of its joy, making him somehow seem at once much younger and much older than he had before. “I must deeply and earnestly apologize if I presented my intentions as being shallow, I would never set out to tease you in such a way, certainly not for my own amusement at your expense.”

“You must forgive me if I cannot take you at your word.” Geralt said, now intensely uncomfortable. “I have had the misfortune of being the victim of a noble’s intentions—good or bad—far too often in my career to ever be able to assume them to be anything but ultimately harmful to both my person and my career. I have not the reputation nor wealth nor etiquette to keep up with the manipulations the wealthy inflict upon their lessers for their own amusement, and thus have learned to keep myself unentangled entirely.”

“Geralt, I-”

“I must insist you refer to me as Sir Witcher in the future as we do not have the opportunity to acquaint ourselves as friends, and inhabit such different social circles as to make such familiarity inappropriate.” Geralt said. He kept his voice firm but not unkind as he realized the young man looked truly distressed.

Perhaps the young lord had genuinely had meant well by his over eager efforts, but that didn’t mean it was still smarter to cut his doubtlessly ill-destined efforts off now.

“Should your father ask after me, I intend to spend the rest of the night alone gleaning what information I can from the guests here and then going out to the moors to hunt, before which I will return this borrowed suit of clothes to your servants. Thank you for lending them to me, I do hope you find someone better suited to your needs for the evening.”

Geralt could see the young man had plenty more to say to him, so instead he gave a stiff bow and then quickly disappeared into the crowd to evade any further conversations.

He sighed as he straightened his shoulders, reaching into his jacket and past his hidden flintlock pistol to retrieve his notebook. He retreated to a shadowed corner of the room from where he could clandestinely observe the crowd and take notes unobserved. This was where he belonged, at the edge looking in, not at the center being looked at. With any luck he’d find the right people to ask questions of and be out alone in the chill night with his usual hunting equipment within the hour. As good as it was to have the luxury of expensive food and a warm fireplace, he always felt unnerved to have only a hidden silver dagger and a small firearm at his disposal.

That was why he felt so unnerved. Not because of the young lord’s hurt disappointment at having his companionship so bluntly rejected. Certainly not.

Geralt shook his head, focusing instead on his sharp hearing to take his mind off of it. This was the way things were and there was no changing it, the young man would have gotten bored or disgusted soon enough anyway, they always did, this was the less painful of the two routes. He would stay focused, find and kill the creature haunting the moors, fulfill his contract, and be gone as soon as possible.

Surely nothing seriously unexpected could go wrong with such a simple contract, and he certainly wouldn’t run into the young lord again that evening. After such a blunt display there was surely no chance that he would be stubborn enough to try befriending Geralt again.

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of those oneshots where I don't have any plans to write more but where I also wouldn't be surprised if I did write a bit more. If you liked it be sure to hit the subscribe button so you'll be the first to know about a surprise second chapter if it does happen at some point.


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